


dizzy chocolate

by merwinist



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (lite), 5+1 Things, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Daddy Kink, Feelings Heavy, Feminization, I did the best I could, M/M, Omegaverse, also it's only barely plot relevant but, i will allow the caveat that this is not the mona lisa of fics, i'm apologizing for nothing since my prompt was so minimal BUT, mature language and themes let's put it that way, minimal dialogue, my prompt was 5k words for hte prompt 'chocolate', peter likes pretty clothes and makeup ok, starker valentines 2020, the lightest sprinkling of, this doesn't verge into smut territory but it gets a lil close in chapter 3, this is really a 3+1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-19 16:17:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22780534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merwinist/pseuds/merwinist
Summary: three times tony gives peter chocolate, and one time peter returns the favor
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 113
Collections: Starker Fics by Egg, Starker Hugs & Kisses 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this was originally a gift for a specific person, but since they dropped out of the starker valentines' day 2020 exchange this has become a gift for the whole starker community! (and i also don't feel guilty about it being late for that same reason lmfao)

Peter really enjoys spending time with Tony. He’s calmed down a lot in the years since his hero-worship had caused him to stammer and eagerly offer any accomplishment in hope of praise and attention. Part of that is due to college, part to his spider-bite-exacerbated puberty, but the majority of this comfort comes simply from having Been Through Some Shit with Tony. Things the man had taken in stride and turned into the fuel for his next amazing invention, like Rhodey’s leg braces. The so-called Civil War happened almost directly after they met, throwing Peter into the deep end of what life when you cared about Tony Stark was like, but Peter didn’t regret a thing, even five years and many other crises later. He’s gotten to see so many different sides of Tony since then, each flash of the person beneath the masks deepening Peter’s crush into something more real, more tangible.

Being around Tony just makes Peter _happy,_ okay? Watching the man chat with his bots, his kids, seeing how he’d get caught up in an engineering binge, trying to solve the next roadblock to his genius, thoughts often racing past current technological capabilities, it all added up. But, above all, it was the way Tony was so _attentive,_ so generous with his time and interest in Peter. He was always available to talk about Peter’s latest project, even though Peter was learning things Tony had probably known about for years and forgotten — or _ignored_ in flares of pure magical innovation. The glow inside Peter’s chest when he made a point about a design that Tony hadn’t considered, or thought of some new way to integrate his two majors of engineering and biology into one piece of amazing tech, only grew brighter and warmer when Peter edged into more cutting edge research as his education continued and the intellectual gap between them slowly closed.

Now, at twenty and well into his second degree, Peter knows what he feels for Tony is more than a crush. He had stolen one of Tony’s grease-stained workshop shirts and tucked it into his _nest_ during his last heat, for crying out loud. Without even really meaning to! He hadn’t even registered the item’s presence as suspicious until _after_ his cycle had run its course. It was embarrassing. And enlightening. And disheartening.

Peter has no illusions about his and Tony’s relationship. Tony views himself as Peter’s mentor, his surrogate father-figure. Peter knows enough about Tony’s past to know that’s one role Tony would never besmirch or dishonor, which while being commendable, really doesn’t give him a lot of hope for future chances of romantic entanglements. But there’s always some small part of Peter that takes in the way their hands occasionally brush over the same tools, or how sometimes it feels like Tony’s hugs linger a touch longer than platonic, and cause hope to erupt through his body, making hairs on his arms stand up. It is, all in all, a great and terrible burden on Peter, these feelings.

And then Tony gives him chocolates. Oh, sure, it’s under a pretense, but… _chocolates?_ In _February?_ Sure, it’s _after_ Valentine’s Day, but it has to mean something. It _has_ to. Peter can’t handle the emotional whiplash if it doesn’t. Tony could have been holding onto that box and waffling over when to give it to Peter for weeks, he doesn’t know. (But god does he hope.)

As he hands Peter the chocolates, he explains, “I know you struggle to get enough calories even during normal days, much less days with patrol or big fights or when your he—” It’s jarring, the way Tony had seemed to be working up to a good, patented Stark Ramble, only to cut himself off and — is that a flush climbing up his neck? Before Peter can really mull that over further, Tony steamrolls ahead like he’d never stopped. “Anyway, these chocolates are densely packed with all the nutrients and proteins your little spidey-system could pray for, courtesy of the latest and greatest in the new Stark Industries food engineering division. Don’t worry, I’ll pass on any improvements, or your comments, since I’m sure you’ll want to analyze the specs and the very interesting use of nanotech they’ve employed. Just let FRIDAY know!”

And then he flees _his own lab_ halfway through their usual Friday jam session, the faint flush still creeping up the back of his neck visible only because of Peter’s enhanced senses.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Peter is not stupid. Hell, he might even be a genius, if Tony and Rhodey are to be believed. So, it’s fair to say that he can put two and two together. Tony had gotten flustered at the mention of Peter’s heat. That Tony had even _registered_ the existence of Peter’s heat, much less _memorized_ his cycle, fans that little bit of hope blazing away determinedly in Peter’s chest… and his skirt.

Naturally, since Peter is a scientist, he has to test this new hypothesis of Tony’s reciprocated attraction. He starts on a Tuesday when he would normally be lounging in the Penthouse of the Tower anyway, asking FRIDAY questions about whatever essay he was working on that week. Today, he’s enacting phase one of the outline for his experiment, since he’s gotten lucky enough for a nice, sunny, unseasonably warm day in New York in March. He’s pulled a glittery silver miniskirt he hasn’t worn since senior year out of the back of his closet, along with a black crop top that has **Yes, Daddy?** emblazoned on it in iconic, Barbie-pink font.

He even gets in a decent effort at tanning while he waits for Tony to seek him out, as the man usually does when FRIDAY lets him know Peter’s showed up for ‘homework night.’ It must have been a lab-binge day, since the wait is longer than business days, confirmed by Tony’s appearance when he shows up. He’s looking his most delicious, covered in oil and grease, hands bearing new tension burns and cuts from scrap metal and carelessness. Peter’s throat tightens with want, especially when he catches a hint of Tony’s scent on the breeze. It’s always a little bit different these days than it had been when they met. Less heavy. Less sad. Content, Peter thinks.

When Tony’s eyes latch onto Peter’s form, the younger superhero makes a show of noticing him and stretching with feigned innocence. “Hey, Tony!” he greets, entirely sincere joy and enthusiasm lighting up his face. “It’s so nice, I couldn’t bear going inside to focus on Theoretical Physics right now.”

Tony is completely silent, and Peter’s keen eyes catch the way his eyes flicker, his throat bobs, and his breath comes a little faster as he determinedly smooths his expression and fixes his gaze on Peter, asking in a husky timbre, “What are you even wearing?”

Peter makes a face like he’s been caught and asks, “Don’t tell May? She didn’t really… adapt well to my presenting omega because of the bite. Everyone always thought I’d be an alpha.”

Tony nods, lapsing into silence as he tries not to stare and only partially succeeds, flicking occasional glances down. Peter feels triumph rush through him as Tony audibly swallows and says, “Yeah, Pete, our little secret.” He restrains himself to a mental fist-pump and decides it’s time to move onto phase two.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter doesn’t immediately escalate. He bides his time, hanging out around the Tower in more stereotypical omega outfits any time he can get away with it — i.e. any day that isn’t a lab day. An unforeseen side-effect of this, and Peter’s sharing of May’s issues with his secondary gender - which was true, not a manipulation tactic, but that doesn’t make Peter feel any less weird about the outcome - is that Tony starts… having clothes delivered to Peter’s room in the Tower. Peter loves them, and wears them, but there’s still always that feeling that he doesn’t really deserve the clothes, he’s fine wearing alpha outfits most of the time, really Tony didn’t need to go to the effort. FRIDAY and he have conversations about it. They’ve both come to the conclusion that Peter is allowed to want to feel cute, and that he doesn’t need to feel compelled to conform to other people’s expectations. Tony’s kids, and by extension him, are very conscious of personal autonomy; it’s just another thing Peter loves about him.

Being bitten by a radioactive spider at the beginning of puberty had not been easy for Peter. It had changed the entire trajectory of his life, and not always in obvious ways. Ever since an exaggerated growth spurt in seventh grade, people had assumed Peter would be an alpha, especially because he didn’t really retain much baby fat; he’d always been what kind people would call lanky and unkind people scrawny. Omegas, even pre-presentation, were generally softer, carrying more weight and just a general air of bonhomie. People tended to like omegas without really contemplating why, but as a general rule they’d find Peter to be ‘too much’ and ‘annoying.’ Perhaps it had been unconscious bias, but either way everyone was surprised when Peter’s first psuedo-heat popped up at sixteen. Everyone except Tony had treated it as though his world was ending — Tony had just asked if he needed anything and offered a heat room that wasn’t a state-provided resource reeking of years’ worth of other omegas’ heats.

So, Peter’d never really been free to explore his identity the way his other classmates did. May loves him, he knows she does, but her life has been full of loss and she’d just seen this as one more unwanted deviation from the way she expected her life to go. She never says anything, but when she catches Peter in skirts or wearing makeup she’s always a second too late to hide her grimace of distaste. It made his last years of high school a production of hiding clothing at MJ’s or Ned’s and leaving early for school every morning so he could dress up. May’s reaction had prevented Peter from showing that side of himself to Tony for the longest time — it’s been _five_ years they’ve known each other, and the only reason he’d shared is because his desire for Tony outweighed his fear of rejection on the presentation issue. And Tony, as usual, blew Peter’s idle worries about what would happen right out of the water.

Peter just hopes it’s because of attraction, and not parental support. He thinks if he were barking up the wrong tree FRIDAY would be merciful enough to tell him, since she’s fairly savvy and has to have cottoned on to the purpose of his vague questions about relationships and showing interest and such. He’s just not _sure._ He can’t really _be_ sure, either, not without opening himself up to humiliation.

Hence the probably overcomplicated plan to seduce Tony Stark with a flash of some thigh and leaving some of his more scent-drenched clothes scattered around the Penthouse.

The next round of specially-engineered chocolates after his feedback shows up on Peter’s bed, sans Tony’s presence. Even though he wants to go find Tony as soon as possible, there was a call to assemble for the senior Avengers and Tony is out of reach for the moment. So, Peter sits down at the antique vanity that had shown up in his room not too long ago, makeup he’d smuggled in from his stash at MJ’s scattered across the tabletop, determined to move on to phase two: drawing attention to his lips and eyes, with a dab of scent-enhancing perfume behind his ears. He’s getting closer to his heat by the day, which probably makes this some sort of psychological warfare, but Tony’s fondness of the saying “All’s fair in love and war” has definitely rubbed off onto Peter. This is definitely a war for love that Peter finds himself fighting so many fronts: his own insecurities, uncertainties, anxieties; Tony’s own idiosyncrasies and whatever misgivings he might be harboring. Hence, the underhanded perfume tactic.

He’s waiting in Tony’s lab, not doing any work that would make his outfit unsafe but just hanging out playing with the bots and playing blind trivia with FRIDAY - so-called because he makes her promise not to use her internet access to cheat - when they all return. There’s a look in Tony’s eye that Peter doesn’t like. He bounces over to Tony in a blink and subtly herds the man to the workshop sofa with a delicate hand on his forearm, gently tugging him down and not stopping until he’s somehow maneuvered Tony’s torso across his lap so he can play with the growing grey curls.

He doesn’t say anything about Tony’s mood, doesn’t really need to. Tony will talk if he wants to, and Peter won’t force him if he doesn’t. Instead, Peter starts to ramble about the rules to the latest game the bots have invented, which involves a rubber band ball and dots of different-colored paint scattered across the rooms they have permission to enter (and some they don’t) with varying levels of points and difficulty of achievement. He details how FRIDAY appointed herself the impartial referee after U and Butterfingers got into a whistle-and-slap fight with U about ‘cheating.’

Peter’s enthusiastic re-enactment of the confrontation has the last of the tension leaking out of Tony’s frame until a small smile crinkles the corner of his eyes. He chuckles, only to let out a deep sigh. Peter drops one hand back into Tony’s hair, the other resting on his bicep as the young omega gives him all his attention. “You’re a good kid, Pete.”

He tries not to let that sting or burrow under his skin. “I think I’m significantly more adult than any of your children, excepting FRIDAY, of course,” he replies with just enough lilt to sound teasing instead of petulant.

It works, and Tony snorts, eyes going soft and considering as they meet Peter’s. “Yeah, I guess you did go and grow up on me.” Tony’s chest rises under Peter’s hand as he takes a deep breath, then stills. Tony’s eyes go molten and his voice is rough. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Peter. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Peter doesn’t remark upon how if he’d noticed, he wouldn’t have encouraged it if he didn’t like it. He thinks what he says now has the possibility of making or breaking the future Peter wants so desperately, so he takes extra care to formulate his response.

“It isn’t a game to me, Tony. Not with you.” He takes his own deep breath. His cheeks are blazing. “I look at you and see an amazing man who’s hard on himself for no reason, who can’t accept compliments because he doesn’t believe them, and I just… Want to be the part of your day that makes you smile, instead of adding to that weight on your back. I want to be someone you trust beyond all reason.” Peter leans down, burying his nose in the hair that curls above Tony’s ear. “I want to be your **everything.** ”

Tony turns his head to the side, slowly brushing his lips over Peter’s in a soft, sweet first kiss that Peter will probably feel branded on his skin forever. After a long moment of prolonged contact, Tony closes his eyes and lets out a whispered, “Okay. Okay.”

Peter doesn’t push, changes the subject tangentially. “And Tony? Thank you for the chocolates.” _And everything else,_ he doesn’t say. _Thank you for just existing,_ he doesn’t say. _Thank you for letting me love you,_ he doesn’t say.

He thinks Tony hears it anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

They’re laying in bed, eating chocolate. Well, to be more precise, Tony is being the perfect alpha and feeding his omega chocolate by hand. Peter’s heat is starting to taper off, and it’s been beyond any dream. Tony is a considerate lover, with enough self-control not to fall into rut himself. He’d stayed focused on Peter’s needs the whole time. Even when Peter was non-verbal and all his body was begging for was another round, Tony would shush him and run a cool hand over his forehead while holding a cold bottle or a small bite up to his lips to coax him into ingesting it. Peter, now that his head has cleared, is giddy beyond belief. This isn’t his first heat with someone else, but it’s his best by far.

“You’re just… Perfect,” Peter sighs contentedly. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

At first Tony doesn’t say anything. Peter doesn’t try to twist around in his arms to see his face even though he _really wants to._ The silence is weighted, but not negative, Peter doesn’t think. He can usually tell, when his anxiety isn’t wreaking havoc on his spidey-senses. Peter knows Tony isn’t always the best with compliments, too, but if you can’t get away with them during a heat, when can you?

“I love you, Peter.”

Now, it’s only been a month and a half since they’d officially started dating, or courting, or whatever. And it hasn’t been without its arguments and spats, Peter probably wouldn’t trust it if it had. He’d have worried Tony was trying too hard and wanted the real Tony back. But what they’ve got? It’s good. Even when they disagree, they _listen_ to each other, try to meet in the middle. They just… click. And Peter knows it’s probably too soon for the L word, and that others would blame it on heat-addlement or something, but Peter is supposedly a genius, and he thinks he understands what Tony’s really saying, even beyond the obvious. He’s saying he’d fight for Peter, and never betray him, and will always tell him the truth.

These are all things Peter knows he can say are the same with him. He would never willingly betray Tony, not in word or deed. He just can’t imagine being one more person in a long line of users to let this wonderful man down that way.

“You’re the best part of my day,” he says in response, and feels muscles underneath him relax from where they’d tensed imperceptibly. “I love you, too, Tony. Your company could go belly-up tomorrow and I’d live with you in a cardboard box off Broadway.”

As hoped, the joke lightens the atmosphere just slightly, Tony defending himself with an over-dramatic gasp and, “I will have you know that even if I couldn’t invent my way out of said cardboard box, I’d have better taste than to set it up on _Broadway,_ of all places.”

Peter giggles, a gentle fog starting to drift back over his mind as the heat swells for what’s probably one last hurrah. He nips at Tony’s fingers, his silent demand for more chocolate met quickly and with a soft chuckle rumbling under his head. “I think a cardboard box is probably just a bit too low-tech for even you, dear. You’d end up dumpster-diving for old electronics, don’t front.”

Tony hums like he’s actually thinking it over, keeping a steady stream of snacks and sips of drink flowing for Peter. The silence grows longer, but stays comfortable until the itch starts up under his skin again. When it grows to be too much, he twists in Tony’s arms and tilts his head back for a kiss, pressing the whole length of his body against his lovers’. And isn’t it funny that he’s taller than his daddy?

Height has nothing to do with power, though, and Peter doesn’t maintain control for longer than it takes Tony to set the supplies to the side. Two strong, cool hands cup his jaw, holding him close while Tony nips his lower lip. The bites are followed with tender sweeps of his tongue, and a smolder starts up low in Peter’s belly, prompting a moan to slip out of his throat. It turns into a whine when one of Tony’s hands slides back to clench his hair while the other wraps gently around his throat. Peter tilts his head back easily, even though he’s tempted to fight the motion just to feel the delicious tug on his scalp. But, they’ve played that game already, and Peter wants this last time to be sweet. Wants to show Tony just how good a boy he can be, how well he can take whatever the alpha wants to dish out, how pretty he is when he’s begging for more. The flame in his stomach is turning into an inferno, stoked higher by Tony’s breath on his ear and his teeth set into Peter’s neck, just barely above his bonding gland.

Teeth gently scrape over the little knot of hormones, making Peter’s hips thrust down without his input and a low chant of, “Please, please, please,” fall from his lips. Tony has _presence,_ that such little contact can make Peter feel so out of control even at the end of his heat.

Nothing happens for a long moment, and Peter tries to hold still, tries to pass the test, but before long he’s writhing on top of the man who holds his leash. “Please, Daddy, please touch me. Please make me feel good.”

A chuckle that wouldn’t be out of place in a villain’s monologue is all the response he gets before Tony has Peter flipped over on his back. Somehow, Peter’s not even sure at this point how - maybe Tony is secretly a ninja - both of his wrists are held above his head in one firm hand. The other is trailing from his neck, down his torso, stopping to tweak each nipple. Tony drinks in the squeaks Peter can’t contain, grins fiercely at the aborted twitches of Peter’s hips. Slick is already pooling between his thighs, he can feel how they stick together briefly when he moves to wrap his legs around Tony’s hips, trying to prod Tony where he wants him. It’s a game they play, one Peter knows he could win, and _has_ when the strength of his heat overrode his control of his powers, but part of the fun is pretending he _can’t_ break the hold as easy as sneezing. It’s the _giving up_ control to someone smarter who loves him that causes the thrill to run up the back of his spine.

The teasing of Tony’s cock against his hole, he could do without, though, as his heat crashes over his head and pulls him down.

“Please, Daddy, don’t make me wait. I’ve been a good boy.”

Tony presses a soft kiss against his forehead, then a searing one to his lips. “I’ve got what you need, baby girl. Hold onto Daddy.”

And then the next few hours are gone in a blur.


	4. Chapter 4

Anniversaries are important to Tony. He knows not everyone would believe that, coming from him, but he _always_ tries to observe important dates. Who better to understand how the passage of time can affect and create memories than The Futurist, hmm? Is it really his fault if he sometimes misses the mark when it comes to gifts? It’s not like he had very good role models for those sorts of things — Jarvis and Ana had never been comfortable accepting gifts from Tony as a child, Maria would simply smile and pat his head with no genuine feedback or reaction, and as if he would even try to give Howard something sentimental. The man didn’t even want the things he made that were _functional._

As a multi-billionaire and genius, very little is outside Tony’s ability to buy or build. But that’s not really the dynamic he and Peter’s relationship is built on, and he doesn’t want to fall back to his usual types of gifts that are all flash and no substance. He wants this first anniversary gift to _mean_ something to the two of them.

Needless to say, he panics for about a week in the month leading up to the day, locking himself in his workshop and claiming a creative binge when in reality, his brain has never been closer to the Sahara. FRIDAY is amazing, but she’s young, and her ability to weigh in on gifts that would be meaningful is limited. Pepper doesn’t really approve of their relationship, big surprise there. Sometimes Tony thinks that Pepper spent so long having to corral him as first PA and then CEO that it’s no wonder she thought she could berate Tony into giving up Iron Man, and he feels bad for disappointing her yet again. Other, better, days, he knows that their entire friendship is better off conducted from different coasts. In small doses, with the firm boundaries that had previously been so lacking.

But none of this really helps Tony with ideas for an anniversary gift. At the end of the week, however, he thinks he knows what he’s going to do: clear an entire day, just for Peter. No emergencies allowed, no SI business intruding, and no distractions.

To aid this endeavor, he calls Rhodey, who is actually pretty supportive and promises to cover any Avengers calls. Pepper, and SI, he handles over email, signing about five gigabytes worth of digital paperwork so that he’s actually _ahead_ of his expected workload. Pepper asks if the world is ending, which Tony finds considerably funnier now that Thanos’ looming specter has been defeated and his so-called ‘Chicken Little’ warnings have proven true in a spectacularly loud fashion that nearly took out the entire Eastern Seaboard. (Why is it always New York?)

All of his ongoing relief responsibilities for the week from the ‘final battle’ have been handed over to Carol and Jessica with a quick ten minute call. He’ll have to put in double-time appearances at reconstruction sites and school re-openings for about a month afterward, but Tony knows it’s worth it.

After considerable argument, FRIDAY and Luke combined have managed to convince him not to propose just yet, to allow their dating anniversary to stand on its own for a year or two, but his protests were registered. Loudly. He’s never felt this way about anyone else, not even when he was convinced that Sunset Bain was going to be the perfect political wife to stay out of his way. He _means_ it beyond all reason now, wants Peter in his life until he’s old and grey — well. In all honesty, between the Extremis Tony had been forced to use to prepare for Thanos and Peter’s spider bite they’re probably going to live longer than Albus Dumbledore, but the sentiment remains the same, even if Tony isn’t really capable of going grey anymore.

So, just one day where Peter doesn’t have to compete with anything else for Tony’s attention. That sounds like the perfect gift. They can do whatever Peter wants — hopefully with a healthy dose of sex, of course, but Tony is willing to spend the day in quiet platonic companionship if that’s what Peter’s feeling. He just wants to prove that he can be thoughtful, that Peter isn’t wrong for loving him like undoubtedly countless people have warned him.

Nowhere in there does Tony calculate for Peter giving _him_ a gift. People don’t… do that. He’s _Tony Stark,_ after all. Anything he wants, he can buy or build or bully out of someone (although his bullying days are far behind him for trivial things).

Needless to say, waking up on the morning of their anniversary to find that Peter has arranged breakfast in bed for him, accompanied by a homemade chocolate egg for dessert, is quite the surprise. A platter stacked high with pancakes, eggs, and steaming bacon has Tony waking up with his mouth already watering, and he honest-to-Loki tears up when he realizes that Peter’s spent _hours_ on this between the hand-poured chocolate and the food. He tries to hide it, of course, but Peter kisses the side of his forehead softly anyway.

“Happy anniversary, Daddy,” he says with happy, quiet confidence. He probably knows Tony had expected to spend the day catering to his every whim. “Today, it’s my turn to take care of you; you’re _always_ doing so much more than you realize for me.”

Tony takes a moment to pull himself together, subtly wiping his eyes against the shoulder of his t-shirt. “It’s perfect, munchkin.” His voice is raspier than he’d like, but if there’s one person he doesn’t have to hide weaknesses from, it’s Peter Parker, actual embodiment of sunshine and rainbows and puppies frolicking in fields.

The food is delicious, which is both surprising and not considering Aunt May could burn air. Uncle Ben must have been a great cook to teach Peter this sort of thing, or he’s learned in the intervening years. When Tony asks, Peter is happy to go off on a long ramble about how Ben had been more of a baker, but MJ had refused to be friends with anyone who couldn’t take care of themselves and had press-ganged him and Ned into taking a culinary class at the nearest rec center when they were high school juniors. The conversation meanders while Tony eats, covering topics all over the board, and Tony wishes again that every morning could be like this. He wants to wake up to Peter’s cheerful enthusiasm for as long as he can, wants to alternate between who’s responsible for meals and clean-up and good-naturedly rehash arguments about whether or not inventing robots to do the work is cheating or not.

Soon the only thing left on the tray is Peter’s beautiful egg, a slight nod to how close to Easter their first date was. He’d insisted Tony save it for last when the engineer had wanted to eat it first, desperate to see how it had been put together, and he’s been eyeballing it eagerly since.

For a moment after he cracks it open, Tony is truly speechless. This is beyond even his ability to predict.

There’s a ring. In the egg. A shiny, milky-white ring, with an inset gem sculpted out of Starkanium, that is obviously made from some variant of Peter’s web fluid.

Tony starts to cry. He can’t even help it, he has lost complete control over his tear ducts. This is everything he never knew he wanted. The idea of proposing to Peter had been exciting, yes, but it had also felt a bit like a duty, which is something Tony has never really wanted to associate with Peter in any way since they stepped outside the mentor dynamic. It’s part of why it hadn’t been at all difficult for FRIDAY and Luke to talk him out of doing it.

Realizing that they _had_ to have known what Peter was planning brings him out of crying. “Yes!” he tries to say, only to be interrupted by a hiccup, soon followed by another. Peter’s face flickers between concerned and fondly amused as Tony tries to get himself back under control. The sneaky little brat slips the ring on Tony’s finger with a bright, ecstatic grin, which just sets Tony off crying again, and the next hour is pretty much a bust as far as coherent conversation goes. Peter didn’t even have to do a cheesy speech.

That’s okay though, Tony will have that covered when he plans the for-public-consumption proposal that will be expected of him as a media darling.

It won’t be better than laying in bed, his face buried in Peter’s chest, every soft, positive emotion leaking out of his eyes while a warm hand rubs his back and kind words of love are murmured into his hair.

Nothing could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope y'all love this fic! xoxo
> 
> feel free to leave a comment <3


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